


Your Trojan’s In My Head

by IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos, LI0NH34RT



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Fluff, Jean is in it, M/M, Self-Indulgent, a lot of coffee, jeremy is a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 19:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17229749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos/pseuds/IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LI0NH34RT/pseuds/LI0NH34RT
Summary: Jean’s working in IT support for a big insurance company where not only teamleader Kevin day and technology dyslexics grate on his nerves, but also the ever happy Jeremy Knox who’s all thumbs when it comes to his office computer. Streaming a football game isn’t his best idea, especially not when there’re more balls involved then Jeremy intended to. What will it cost for Jeremy to make Jean help him out?





	Your Trojan’s In My Head

**Author's Note:**

> So, this idea started with listening to “Trojans” by Atlas Genius. We really enjoyed writing this self-indulgent fluff a lot.
> 
> Leave us a kudo and a comment <3

Jean is annoyed. It’s not even 9am and he is already done for the day.   
It’s days like this that make him question why on earth he ever thought IT Support would be a job for him.

“Mr. Moreau, I don’t know what happened, I just clicked once and now every document is gone!”  
“Mr. Moreau, why won’t my desktop light up anymore?”  
“I think I deleted the internet.”  
“I only have 25 tabs open, why is nothing working anymore?”

Oh yes, the joys of working with five year olds in the bodies of grown men and women.

His co-worker Sara, who everyone only calls Alvarez, sees the murder in Jean’s eyes as he comes back to his desk after another ‘emergency’ that could have been solved with a tiny bit of logic thinking. Wordlessly, she slides over his third coffee of the day.

“Another guy who deleted the internet?”

“Don’t ask.” He settles behind his computer, scalds his tongue on a sip of his too hot coffee and does some basic coding for some adjustments to the insurance company’s firewall. After a few minutes of heavenly peace, his phone rings yet again. The number on the display doesn’t bode well. Office 3. Box 10. Jeremy Knox. The third time this week. It’s Tuesday.

“Moreau, IT.”

“Hey Jean, here’s Jeremy. Again, I know, but could you come up for a min? The software crashed again.” The cheer in Jeremy’s voice is almost too much to bear. How can someone be in such a good mood every single day?

“Have you tried a restart already?”

“Yes, I clicked on the X and then restarted but now nothing happens anymore. I also double-clicked again. There’s the small colored ball next to the arrow now.”

Great. Double-clicking while the computer processes. Definitely not something he put on the “Error Messages and Troubleshooting” sheet. “I’ll come upstairs.”

“You’re a blessing.”

Jean cradles the phone, bumps his head against the backrest with a groan, takes his bag and makes his way upstairs to the sixth floor to Jeremy’s booth.

“That was quick,” Jeremy greets him with a too sly smile playing around the corners of his mouth on which Jean’s eyes rest longer than necessary.

He quickly uses his favorite shortcut: the three-finger salute. “Look. It’s bullet point number five: What can I do if the software crashes? Use the three-finger salute, a very helpful shortcut that allows you to end the program immediately. You’re using one of our Apple devices? Press alt+cmd+esc. After the window has closed, double-click ONCE on the software symbol for a restart.”

“But how can I know what’s _cmd_?” Jeremy asks, a hint of desperation and yet amusement in his voice. Jean would roll his eyes in annoyance but refrains.

“It’s that tiny symbol over here, Jeremy. Look, it has the four tiny bows in its edges but all shortcuts are explained with symbols on the backside of the sheet.”

“It’s so much easier when you’re here to explain it.” The sly smile is back. Great. Since the last Christmas party - he had dropped Jeremy off at his apartment because he’d been too drunk to drive -Jeremy was giving him this stupid smile.

“What does the text beneath my number say? Right: EMERGENCY HOTLINE. This is no emergency.”

“Is having the urge to see you smile for once one?” Jean can’t help it but let a quick smile slip over his face. “No. Do your insurance stuff. I didn’t study for five years to explain shortcuts to stupid all-thumbs.” In closer consideration, doing IT Support wasn’t exactly what he’d studied for as well.

He gets up, grabs his bag and walks towards the hallway, still feeling Jeremy’s big smile in his back when the elevator arrives. Somehow the rest of the phone calls this day don’t even bother him anymore.

~~~~~~

The cold breeze stings when it hits Jean’s cheeks as he exits through the sliding door of the office building.

The weather forecast has been warning against the upcoming blizzard all week but Jean still feels blindsided by the frosty wind blowing through his parka. He tugs the scarf a bit tighter around his nose and struggles through the snowdrifts.

Take-away food seems to be the best option since his fridge is empty and shopping groceries would be too exhausting. He stops by at Andrew’s diner and orders a burger with sweet potato fries, not really being up for some chit chat which Andrew mercifully avoids.

It’s just another two minutes until he finally reaches his apartment, stomps the snow off his shoes at the doorstep and settles in front of the fireplace with his burger, fries, a big glass of red wine and the book he’s started to read the other day.

He’s used to the quiet of his apartment, only a cat rolled up in the armchair next to him, but sometimes, when it’s cold outside, he misses someone to hold the cat in his lap, two sets of feet slightly touching each other, two glasses of wine instead of a single one on the side table. He calls it a night before he can mull over it any longer.

~~~~~~

The rest of the week was like any other. People called for non-emergencies - “I think I crashed my monitor.” “No you just didn’t switch it on.” - and real emergencies - “I can’t find any data on that server.” Shit, the disk got deleted. - and Jean can’t wait for Friday to be over.

Except that it won’t be over at 5. Tonight is the company’s traditional Christmas party and he will have to go because he has a Secret Santa and all he knows is that he doesn’t want this guy to leave without a present.

A red box sits on his desk with a green ribbon and a tag that says _Jeremy Knox_ in Jean’s best cursive handwriting.

It had taken weeks to find the right present for someone like Jeremy, someone who could really be a pain in the ass and yet uses to wear a smile that Jean keeps looking forward to when he enters his floor.

This year Kevin didn’t set a limit for the presents’ values so Jean went all the way and bought some tickets for the game of the 49ers against the NY Giants. Jeremy loves football and since he misses California a lot, seeing the 49ers next year would probably cheer him up. On top comes that Jean earns much more than he needs so why not invest it into a daydream.

At 5.15, he enters the decorated hall and puts his present under the tree.

At 7.00, his head is dizzy from the cheap hot wine and Kevin’s cheesy Christmas speech.

At 8.07, he gets to open his Secret Santa and is quite surprised by the bottle of 2011 Chäteau Margaux red wine that is easily as expensive as his set of NFL tickets and definitely a novelty. Usually he got deodorant and shower gel that made him wonder from time to time if he was smelly and someone wanted to give him a subtle hint.

He lets his eyes roam around the hall to find Jeremy. It doesn’t take long when all one has to look for is the beaming sun. Are there tears rolling down his cheeks? Before he can avert his gaze Jeremy looks at him, gives him a nod and flashes the biggest grin Jean has ever seen on his face.

At 9.30, a plushy Filou sits in his lap, his feet are warm from the dancing flames in the fireplace in his living room, the best Chäteau Margaux is on his tongue and when he falls asleep, he dreams of the sun.

~~~~~~

Wednesday had started suspiciously quiet. At 10am, there had only been two “emergencies” for Jean to solve. It had almost been boring. Just when that thought crosses his mind, the phone rings again. _Jinxed it, merde!_

  
_“Moreau, IT.”_

  
“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!”

“Excuse me?”

Unintelligible voices, accompanied by - is that _moaning_? come through the line.

  
“... Uhm… hey Jean….”

“Jeremy”, the name comes out as a sigh, “what have you done again?”

Jeremy mumbles his answer.

“Come again, please?”

“I just wanted to watch the game, okay?”

Jean sighs. Again. This doesn’t bode well. “You know what? I will just come and have a look myself.”

~~~~~~

What awaits him upstairs is like nothing Jean has ever seen before.  
Jeremy’s cubicle is in absolute chaos. Not that the other man is tidy on normal days, but there are pens scattered on the ground, papers - really important looking papers, for that matter - on every surface like they got caught in a storm and the computer monitor lays face down on the empty desk, a few cable ends poking out from underneath.

When Jeremy shuffles nervously, the look of a Golden Retriever guilty of destroying the couch cushions on his face, Jean can see a demolished speaker on the ground behind him.

“I swear,” he says so fast, the words almost tumbling out at once, “I just wanted to watch Football!”

“Sure.” Jean takes the corrosion in with the logical eye of the innocent bystander.  
“You know, you’re gonna have to pay for that, do you?” Jean steps past Jeremy, towards the desk. His fingers are just touching the screen as a panicked “NO!” causes him to let go again. The screen hits the desk a second time. “What? What did you do, Knox?”

The use of his last name seems to wake Jeremy out of his frozen state. His shoulders sink down and he looks utterly defeated, with a groan he sinks down into his chair. “I just wanted to watch the game…” he repeats once more, sounding almost pathetic in his desperation.

Jean takes hold of the monitor again and pulls it up until it stands on its own again before he proceeds to look at the images still flickering over it.  
Porn. It’s porn. Hardcore, non-censored _gay porn_.

For a moment, Jean just stills. He stands in this broken work cubicle, staring at a monitor full of HD gay porn. How on earth did his university degree let him get into this situation?

Then his gaze falls onto Jeremy. The man is still collapsed on his chair, head in his hands, fingers messing up his already tousled hair.

And then Jean’s lips are twitching. He tries to stop it but there is no coming back and before he knows it, he is full on laughing. A wholehearted belly-laughter, echoing from the office walls as tears rise into his eyes. He’s laughing like he didn’t in months if not years.

“Sure that you weren’t after some other balls than footballs?” Jean coughs out, still not able to regain his composure.

“Sh, Jean, please.” Jeremy lifts his head, cheeks fully flushed, his eyes flicking around to check that no one gets to witness his little mistake. “I swear, I streamed football and somehow the video must have opened and now there’s nothing I can do to close it.”

“Someone doesn’t want to admit that there’s a different game they’re interested in?” Jean teases his slouching co-worker, quickly cutting the most important connections before scooping the computer up into his arms. “I will have to do some adjustments in the basement. It’s a Trojan. You’ll get it back in a few days.”

“In a few days?” Jeremy groans out, his slightly pitched voice giving his tension away. “Kevin will kill me if he finds out what happened. Please, Jean, help me,” Jeremy almost begs, giving Jean the puppy eyes that make this huge smile fool so irresistible.

To everyone else, Jean would most likely say no. To Jeremy he nods. “What’s in for me?” he asks, more a joke than anything else, until he sees Jeremy crack a smile.

“If you can fix this until tomorrow, I’ll take you out for dinner. There’s a nice French place a friend of mine owns just a few minutes from my apartment. Three courses, on me.”

“Four courses and a bottle of red wine - to get through the evening with a porn obsessed co-worker, you see?” Jean retaliates although he’s pretty sure he would even come if it was just for the dessert.

“Deal!”

He calls Andrew and Neil. Seems like they will have to reschedule tonight’s dinner.

~~~~~~

Jean climbs the stairs to the sixth floor with practiced ease. In his arms he cradles the fully restored computer that belongs to Jeremy.

The only indication that something happened to the device is a small scratch on the right side of the case, the same place where it hit the ground when Jeremy panicked and started to pull cables out.

It’s early, not even eight o’clock, but Jean knows Kevin, the department manager, and how timely he is. To his surprise, Jeremy waits for him at his cubicle.

He has two cups of coffee on his now slightly more tidied up desk. When he hears Jean approaching he looks up from his phone, the usual beaming smile in place again. Jean had almost started to miss it after the other man had seemed so devastated yesterday.

“Hey!” Jeremy jumps up from his chair, “good Morning Jean! I brought you coffee!”

An unwanted smile creeps onto Jean’s lips; he hides it by turning to the desk and setting down the computer. When he faces Jeremy again his face is neutral.

“Thanks.” He takes a sip from the offered cup. It’s black coffee with a hint of vanilla syrup, just how he likes it. A questioningly raised eyebrow causes Jeremy to blush.

“I… may have asked Sara what your favourite drink is. Her and my best friend Laila are engaged, you know?”

_That is...surprisingly thoughtful._

Jeremy is still staring at him. His eyebrow rises again and immediately a light blush spreads under the freckles on the other man’s cheeks. “Oh, right! I meant to ask - did everything work out? Can I use my computer again without, you know…?” He trails of in the middle of the sentence and once more Jean can’t resist a little teasing.

“Without getting a hard on?”

Jeremy splutters, now red all over his face and Jean has mercy with him.

“Everything is repaired, don’t worry. I managed to delete the virus and I installed a better firewall so now you can watch your games- I mean work in peace. Guess I will see you tonight then?”

Clearly caught of guard Jeremy’s answer comes with a delay but he rushes himself to bring out a “Yes, of course!”

“Great.” Jean says, already turning around to return to his own desk.

“I will tell Sara to give you my number!” Jeremy calls after him and oh, that was something Jean almost forgot. He turns back.

“Why bother her?” he asks, already reaching past Jeremy for a pen and paper. He just realizes how close they are when he hears Jeremy’s shaky breath form his number.

~~~

  
“Why are you grinning? Did Kevin fall down the stairs?”

“Very funny, Sara,“ Jean rolls his eyes, “but no. I have, in fact, a date.”

A crash indicates that his co-worker just fell off her chair. “What?! Jean Moreau, you are telling me everything, right the fuck now!”

His phone rings and with a malicious smirk he reaches for the handle. “Sorry, Sara, but this is an emergency.”

~~~~~~

Somehow he couldn’t shake of the grin on his face for the rest of the day. It’s still on his face as he walks down the snow-powdered alley, Christmassy decorated with fairy lights and sparkling snowflakes that remind him of Christmas in Paris. The blizzard has finally subsided and the streets are calmed by the layer of snow that covers the ground.

Jeremy lives on the other end of the city which had forced Jean to take the subway up to Central Park and walk the rest of the way. He finally approaches the beige building with the black awnings and the big black signs with white letters that presage the expensiveness of the evening. He waits beside the black carpet that signals the entrance and watches the dancing snowflakes while rubbing his gloved hands to regain some warmth. He definitely can’t deny Jeremy a good sense of romance.

Just two minutes later, Jeremy rounds the corner with his huge black umbrella, muffled up in his parka and a big checkered scarf, making him look like a glossy magazine model. When he sees Jean he flashes his usual big grin, beaming like a supernova and blowing all the chill of within a second.

“Hey, sorry but my neighbour was a bit late so I had to wait for him.”

“What for?”

“To look after my dog,” he says and shrugs, holding his arm out for Jean’s arm to link them.

“Pretty gentle for someone who gets off on hardcore gay porn at work,” Jean whispers and can’t suppress a big smile when Jeremy blushes.

“That’s not my usual preference,” he mutters under his breath and leads Jean to the restaurant door.

“But organizing a fancy dinner for the IT guy is?”

“I won’t answer that.”

“You know that you don’t have to incriminate yourself?”

“I’ll exercise that right.”

The warmth of the lobby engulfs them, finally thawing Jean’s frozen bones. The host guides them into a side room where a table is set up for two with candles and fresh lilies - Jean’s favorite flowers - which really makes him wonder how long Jeremy had planned for something like this to happen.

“Sure that the whole Trojan thing was accidental?”

“Yeah, why?”

“How could you know that lilies are my favorite flowers?”

“I guessed,” Jeremy says and smiles, pulling one chair away for Jean to take his seat. A server takes their menu orders and brings a bottle of champagne and starters which is followed by a bottle of red wine and an exquisite main course and finally rounded by some liquor and the best French dessert Jean has ever had in New York City.

When Jeremy asks for the bill, they are way beyond the ability to walk long distances, Jean’s head dizzy from the wine and the dessert and Jeremy’s lingering gazes on his face.

“Want to crash on my sofa?” His cat is well cared for, it’s cold outside and Jeremy’s apartment is just two minutes away, so why not?

“I can walk you home, at least,” he says instead, not wanting to give away all right now.

“Sure,” Jeremy says and helps Jean into his cloak before he pulls on his parka and offers his arm once again. They walk through the streets, all the lights a bit blurred, but Jean doesn’t care because his heart races in his chest while he prepares for something he’s never done before. When they reach Jeremy’s house, Jeremy turns to face him at the doorstep, fumbling with his keys in his pocket.

“I - You know,” he chuckles, slightly squinting when he meets Jean’s eyes, “I usually don’t do that, but would you mind coming upstairs with me for a coffee? I mean - it’s not like we don’t know each other just since tonight and -”

“Jeremy,” Jean gasps out and sees the collapsing posture of the other man, a sad smile showing on his lips, “I’d love to have a coffee with you.” Jean seems to have caught him off guard since his eyes lighten up again as his mind processes the words.

“Really?”

“Sure. It’s just a coffee, isn’t it?”

“Sure. Just a coffee,” he mutters, opening the door and leading Jean upstairs where their coffee turns from one into two, into three, into so much more than just a simple coffee when the sun starts to rise.

~~~~~~

A single coffee cup waits on Jean’s workplace when he walks through the door. There has been coffee every day, for the past few months.

“You are smiling, again”, Sara states the obvious but Jean can’t even find it in him to be annoyed about that habit of hers.  
He walks to his desk and takes the cup in his hand, ready to savour the taste. Just in that moment the phone rings.

  
“Moreau, IT.”

  
“I think I’ve got a virus on my computer.”

_Oh no…_ “Jere, what did you do?”

“I don’t know, can you please come check it out?”

Jean sighs, “Of course, see you in a minute.”

Jeremy looks even more nervous than the last time he called Jean up for a computer problem.

“Come on, mon chou, it can’t be worse than the Trojan right?” With that he steps past his boyfriend into the cubicle.

There isn’t a Trojan. Just a perfectly functioning monitor, that displays the words HAPPY ANNIVERSARY in bright pink letters.

Stunned in his surprise Jean turns around. Jeremy is right behind him, a bright smile on his lips and … a bowtie in his hands?  
He holds it out to Jean.

“I know it might be a little early for this, but we are dating for three months now and you know that I love you because I blurted it out on the third date, and you haven’t run away screaming yet, so I thought why not be reckless again? So, Jean Moreau - will you…”, he thrusts the bowtie into Jean’s hand and Jean’s heart races as he feels metal, “... move in with me?”

It’s a key. A key to Jeremy’s house.

_Thank god!_

Jeremy’s grin turns mischievous, “Come on now, not even I would do a proposal in an office cubicle!”

And Jean shakes his head, laughing quietly “I love you too, mon chou.”

“So, does that mean you would have said yes to that too?”

“Let’s start with the house, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And Jeremy? No more porn at work!”

“It was just football, I swear!”

  
~Fin


End file.
